Beautiful Alone
by Ekai Ungson
Summary: Completed. Most people believe in destiny, and in fate. Here we have two souls that all had thought were fated. Here we ask the question, What if they were never meant to be together?...
1. awakening

Beautiful Alone  
by Ekai Ungson  
  
note: okay. if you are a rabid sxs fan, or in fact, any fan of sxs, stop right here. i mean it. click the 'back' button and forget you ever wanted to read this. i'm breaking them up. i'm breaking them up with a lot of blood and ceremony, and it's NOT going to be pretty. i'm not putting them back either, so don't hope. and if i get any reviews for this that are either flames or go 'why did you do this? it's so SAD!' well, guys, it AIN'T my fault. i told you not to read it.  
  
it's a sad, sad fic. so if you don't have the stomach for sad then go read syaoran no hime and not me today. she's a real cheerer-upper. ^-^  
  
and i did it because it could be done. simple,no?   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
i: awakening  
  
Ice cold.  
  
His hands were ice cold.  
  
She wondered about that. Wondered about it day and night, why his hands were so, so, cold, why his skin was freezing. She found no more warmth in the depths of his eyes, no heat in his lips when she kissed him. He was like stone now, like marble, cold, distant, unreachable.  
  
He couldn't talk to her now. He always had something to say but lately he had no words apart from empty greetings. He spoke to her in monosyllables and monotones. She didn't understand.  
  
Had things changed, somewhat? Had she triggered something when she touched him that made him react this way?  
  
Something was wrong. She wasn't the Card Mistress for nothing. Something was very, very wrong, but it had nothing to do with magic whatsoever.  
  
----  
  
Two slips of paper.  
  
Two slips of paper had caused a full tumult of emotions within her to rise. Two slips of paper, scrawled with two different kinds of female handwriting. One said 'Aiko-- 8989545', and the other, 'Hanano-- 6599874'.  
  
She sucked a breath in sharply. Two slips of paper in a pocket of his jeans. Two different women, phone numbers.  
  
He used to throw these things away.  
  
She tried to blink the tears away and succeeded. There was no reason to cry. Maybe he'd forgotten to dispose of them. Maybe he shoved them in his pocket so as not to embarass the ladies, then forgot about them. She wasn't going to cry about this. There wasn't anything to cry about.  
  
And somehow, she sincerely doubted all that.  
  
He was perfect in a lot of female-- and male--- opinions. It wasn't a surprise anymore when he was offered phone numbers and propositions and proposals for a hundred different things a hundred different times.  
  
But he threw those numbers away. Always. Always.  
  
She shook her head. Nothing was wrong.   
  
Nothing.  
  
----  
  
She was slaving over calculus homework with him in his apartment when the phone rang.  
  
She looked up to see his head turn sharply, as if he'd just glanced at her for some reason, before picking up the cordless.  
  
And he walked out of the room.  
  
She sat there alone, pen in right hand, clutching it with a grip so tight that it wouldn't be a surprise if it broke in two.  
  
He never used to hide things from her. He didn't need to.  
  
Yet he was doing so now.  
  
Her senses went on overdrive.  
  
----  
  
She left her Physics book on his couch last night.  
  
"Gimme your keys," she pleaded. "I need that book before next period."  
  
He tossed the keychain to her without a second thought.  
  
And when the cold metal hit her hands she felt a distinct sense of foreboding come on.  
  
Something was about to transpire.  
  
----  
  
The instant she opened the door, she felt the aura around her scream.  
  
GET OUT SAKURA  
  
She felt it with all the intensity of a wrecking ball.   
  
She tossed the keys, heard it fall somewhere in the dark depths. She ran inside and gathered up what she needed. She turned to leave...  
  
The phone rang.  
  
The shrill sound broke the tense silence, then rendered it with even more pressure.  
  
She was suddenly rooted to the spot.  
  
It rang again.  
  
She meant to move, but couldn't.   
  
The machine kicked in.  
  
"This is Li. Leave me a message." Beep.  
  
"Hey Syaoran. This is Aiko."  
  
Sakura whirled around.  
  
"I miss you. Can I see you again tonight?"  
  
Her eyes widened. Female. Sultry. The only words that registered, however, were 'again' and 'tonight'. Again. Meaning he'd done it before. And tonight. Meaning, of for God's sweet sake, what was there to do at night with a beautiful woman? DUH.  
  
"Come over at around six if ever."  
  
All the wind was knocked out of her. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe. Oxygen, she told herself. Life-support first. Deal later. She stood there, riveted, as the tape clicked.  
  
"Bullshit," she murmured. "I..."  
  
She was old enough to swear at this. She wasn't old enough to not cry.  
  
And once the tears came pouring out, there would be no stopping them.  
  
----  
  
All the professors were asking about her.   
  
"Is Kinomoto-san sick?"  
  
"Is Kinomoto-san absent? Where is she?"  
  
As far as he knew Sakura wasn't sick, and neither was she absent. She was just fine this morning. He looked for her at the Psych building, at the quad, at her father's office. Nothing.  
  
He looked for her in the courtayard, the student union, her sorority house. Not there either.  
  
He began to get worried.  
  
----  
  
The door to his dorm room was ajar. He stepped inside and found his keys strewn carelessly on the carpet. There wasn't a light on, and there wasn't a sound.  
  
And there she was, sitting in the middle of his living room rug like a stone statue. Not moving.  
  
"Sakura?" he asked. "What are you doing in here?"  
  
No reply.  
  
He knelt before her and clasped her hands. She drew away quickly.   
  
He looked into her eyes. Blank, without light, devoid of emotion. "Sakura," he repeated. "What's wrong?"  
  
"You have messages," she whispered.  
  
His eyes narrowed as he turned to look at the answering machine. Sure enough, the red light was blinking rapidly. He straightened and went to the phone.  
  
He pushed the button.   
  
"Hey Syaoran, this is Aiko.... I miss you, can I see you again tonight? Come over around six if ever....."  
  
Beep.  
  
He turned to her, horrified. "Sakura--"  
  
She was beyond reason now, beyond grief, beyond everything. Her sorrow had given way to a white hot rage, coursing through her veins, with her blood.  
  
"I have just one question," she began, standing up. "What can she give you that I can't? More fun? More spontaneity?"  
  
"--Sakura--"  
  
She turned blazing green eyes at him, full of disdain. She looked him up and down contemptuously. "Oh," she said. "Sex?"  
  
He gaped at her.  
  
"Is that it?" Sakura persisted. "Chaste, baby kisses from wittle Sakura's not enough anymore? Is it because I refused?' she asked. "Then you should have said something, Syaoran. Because we could've fixed that." She took a step towards him.  
  
"Sakura, no," he managed.  
  
"What do you mean, 'Sakura, no'?" she repeated. "Are you afraid of me?"  
  
He was. She could see it in his eyes, and she reveled in that fear, in this power. She rejoiced in it, wallowed in it, drowned in it.  
  
"Well, Syaoran?" She took one more step.  
  
He backed up. "Sakura--" he uttered, pained.  
  
"Why not me, Syaoran?" she asked. "Aiko and Hanano and all those women. I can see the guilt in your eyes. Why them and not me, huh? Why them and not me?"  
  
And she lunged.  
  
Rage was fueling her; her thoughts, her movements, her emotions. Rage dictated her whole being and drove her to do the things she was doing.  
  
She didn't know where she ended and he began, but she soon found herself pinned to the wall, her lips still on his.  
  
And then he spoke.  
  
"I... love you."  
  
At that she pushed him off her fiercely, and he staggered back violently.   
  
She met his dazed eyes.   
  
"You lie."  
  
And she ran out of the apartment. 


	2. aftermath

Beautiful Alone  
by Ekai Ungson  
  
note: you got this far? i'm proud of you. most fans probably wouldn't be able to take chapter one. now, here's chapter two. it gets worse. heh heh. XD  
  
first, for Sakura, in gratitude for... well, a lot of things. ^_^  
  
for the people who got this far. wow. i mean, WOW. are you sure? come on, think twice, it's gonna be baaad  
  
for the people who liked the first installment, for some obscure, obtuse reason. tsk.  
  
legality: CLAMP owns it. i'm just dragging them through my dregs. it's FUN. ^_^  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
ii: aftermath  
  
He had been caught dead in the act with a betrayal, and now he was free.   
  
Yet in this, he felt nothing but an emptiness he couldn't explain to himself. This WAS what he'd wanted. This WAS what he'd desired. He HAD wanted his freedom from Sakura when he found her too stifling, too cage-like, too... in adequate.  
  
It was true. He never expected to be so guilty about it, but it was horribly true. He had felt that Sakura locked him in but lacked for him, and this drove him to seek something else in other women. Seek something he couldn't get from her. His upbringing be damned. His promises be damned. What was it called again? Primal need.  
  
And the law of all basic need. If you cannot attain what you need in one place, find other resource. And he had found, not just one other, but many, many others, all eager to please him in the way that Sakura couldn't, in the way that Sakura wouldn't.  
  
Her refusal to give in to him not only shocked him to the core. It enraged him. He felt hurt that his own fiancee, the woman he was going to marry, the ONLY damned woman he had ever loved in his entire life didn't have enough trust in him, didn't have enough faith in him.  
  
He had affairs, against his better judgment, not only to get what he wanted, but also to hurt her.   
  
And he had succeeded.  
  
In her green eyes he saw that she was beyond hurt. She had been DEVASTATED.  
  
----  
  
A small uproar arose the next day. People turned questioning looks toward both Sakura and Syaoran, apparently not knowing what to make of the fact that they weren't joined at the hip like they usually were. In fact, they barely looked at each other. Something was amiss.  
  
Syaoran too the event in stride, however, he could not help but wonder about his now-ex's well-being. Sakura was so easily hurt, after all, so easily broken, so easily sad.  
  
But he didn't know.  
  
Sakura did not cry.  
  
----  
  
She couldn't wouldn't cry. No. Not because of this. She forced herself to think thoughts along the lines of gruesome, bloody murder. The result was an empty shell of a woman-child. She wasn't mad, couldn't get angry. She wasn't filled with rage, no matter how she tried. She was more... detached. Chores of everyday were done out of habit and not of heart.  
  
Sakura had become something like a dented reflection bouncing off the light of the mirror.  
  
----  
  
He was there.  
  
He was right there, in the hallway, his books in one hand, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. What the hell. He hadn't disturbed her in days, or was it weeks now? for which she was thankful. But what thhe hell was he doing here?  
  
He was waiting for her. She knew because he studied BS Math and he had no business whatsoever in the Archaeology building, where she was. Holy, holy hell.  
  
She ducked back into the classroom as the other students filed out. What was she going to do?   
  
She could walk past him as if he were invisible.  
  
She could walk up to him and greet him-- no, bad idea.  
  
She could stay in the room 'til closing?  
  
She could escape through the classroom's east window...? Yes! Fly ought to---  
  
"Sakura?"  
  
Bullshit!  
  
Trapped like a rat. No escape, she had to face him... it was so like him to go to her.   
  
She turned. "Hai."  
  
----  
  
The building had become dead quiet.  
  
They stood there, not knowing what exactly to do when the other reacted.  
  
She broke the silence.   
  
"What are you doing here?"  
  
----  
  
He stared back at her, unwilling to look away, but at the same time, too guilty to look at her directly.  
  
What WAS he doing here?  
  
"I thought maybe we could talk," he managed.  
  
She stared up at him, and he could feel her gaze penetrating him. He felt her eyes see beyond his skin, to his soul.  
  
"Here?" she asked.  
  
He smiled slightly in relief more than anything else. "Let me take you out for dinner."  
  
----  
  
The restaurant was Martine's, an expensive Italian joint. She didn't know why he chose this place. They'd only been in here once, during their anniversary.  
  
He didn't bring her to the swings of Tomoeda Park, where they usually talked.  
  
Nor to the cafe beside her dormitory where they usually spent time.  
  
And it suddenly dawned on her that he had wanted to take her to grounds with as little memories-- history-- as possible.  
  
They were led to a corner away from the other patrons, out of everybody else's earshot, and spent a few moments in uneasy silence until the waiter thankfully came to take their order.  
  
Sakura chided herself. This was Syaoran. This was a man she had known for years and years so much that she knew him inside out. What was she so afraid of?  
  
And she looked up at him and immediately shot down that first notion.  
  
She did not know this Syaoran.  
  
This Syaoran was a stranger.  
  
----  
  
"You wanted to talk," she prompted.  
  
He looked up and met her questioning eyes. So much he saw in those eyes. Things that terrified him.  
  
He cleared his throat.  
  
She blinked once, twice.  
  
And then, ---  
  
"You know, this is really awkward," Sakura stated.  
  
He laughed, thankfully, nervously. "Thank you."  
  
Silence.  
  
"You wanted to talk," she repeated.  
  
...  
  
"I was hoping we could be friends."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
AN: Yes, be afraid, be VERY afraid. ^_^ Ekai's being evil.... 


	3. mirror, mirror

Beautiful Alone  
by Ekai Ungson  
  
note: up for more torture, i do see! how very lovely. again, i'm warning you. a lot of fans will not like how i'm writing this thing. so if you think you can't handle this chapter, by all means hit the back button. clear? now, no flames. i did warn you all.  
  
(raises glass) and this is foooooor:  
  
Chiqui, my editor in Malate. without her i would have no life. hwee.  
  
Sakura-san, for the usual lots of things. hwee.  
  
the Malate Literary Folio staff!!  
  
and ze fans who can still read this. hwee?  
  
ze legality: yes, it's CLAMP, yes, it's CLAMP. we're all unworthy.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
iii: Mirror, Mirror  
  
Of course they could be friends.  
  
They'd known each other for too long to NOT be friends.   
  
Of course.  
  
Yes, she was okay. No-- no need to apologize for anything at all.  
  
No need to explain. She needed no explanations.  
  
She was fine. Really.  
  
----  
  
"So... I'll see you in school?"  
  
They were in front of her dormitory building.   
  
Sakura nodded. "Of course."  
  
"Oyasumi nasai," said Syaoran.  
  
"Oyasumi," she echoed. "Please take care."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
With that, he walked off into the ebony night.  
  
She stared at his retreating back, unblinking, and then realized, quite suddenly, that he was walking out of her life, literally.  
  
A tear fell from one emerald eye.  
  
And then there was naught more.  
  
----  
  
She stared into the mirror, looking into the green eyes of a distorted image of herself.   
  
Nothing was wrong with her physically, but she was shattered inside, shattered into little pieces of weightless crystal floating in the darkness of her torn soul. Torn from her breath and from her body.  
  
Because now she had really and truly lost half of who she was, half of her identity. She had lost the one man sdhe had ever loved with her heart and spirit, so much that it was as if they were connected with pacts of blood, so much that she felt her blood flowing from her out of a wound that never never healed.  
  
She existed because Syaoran was beside her.  
  
She lived because Syaoran was there for her.  
  
Therefore she could live no longer.  
  
~-~-~-~-~-~-~  
  
She couldn't, WOULDN'T just be friends with him. She wasn't capable of that much courage. She never was. She was strong because Syaoran was strong for her. And Syaoran was gone.  
  
/You said we'd be together forever./  
  
It simply wasn't possible. She LOVED Syaoran. Loved him not with her head, noit with her heart or her soul. She loved him with her entirety. To see him with another would be torture. To hear him talk about another would be her death. To be JUST his friend would kill her in an infinitesimal moment. To see him hold another girl, kiss another girl, and have nothing to say, because she didn't have a right anymore to say anything...  
  
She couldn't bear that. Not now, not ever at all.  
  
----  
  
He splashed cold water on his face and then straightened to meet eyes with the mirror. That was when the full realization of what he'd just done came down on him with full force.  
  
He had just asked Sakura to be just friends.  
  
Just friends.  
  
Like the way she was with Tomoyo. Like the way he behaved with Yamazaki.  
  
Rubbish, utter madness, absolute insanity, bullshit. He simply couldn't see himself jostling around with Sakura. They were too... profound.  
  
It was as if their "friendship" decidedly desecrated the love they had once.  
  
The love he still had for her.  
  
But he had broken Sakura far beyond repair. And no matter what he did no force on earth could make her take him back, he had seen it in her eyes, a plea that said "please let me be, Syaoran. Let me be fine. Let me alone."  
  
The closest he could get to her was this way.   
  
He didn't have a choice.  
  
For this was his own doing.  
  
----  
  
"Ohayou, Syaoran-kun," she greeted when she saw him at the quad. The smile on her face had no trace of bitterness, nor sorrow.  
  
He couldn't stand to look at her, not when she was this way. He wanted her to kick him, slap him, hit him, attack him. He'd give anything for her to take out her Cards and curse him to the moon. Absolutely anything at all. Just not this way, just not so radiant, as if nothing had happened. Please tell me you still feel for me, even if it is only all anger. I'll take it from you without qualm. Please.  
  
"Ohayou," he replied.  
  
"Are you all right?" she asked. "You don't look so good."  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
----  
  
At least there was less uneasiness now, she mused. At least she could act a little normally. At least.  
  
"Syaoran!!"  
  
Her head shot up, involuntarily. A blond haired, blue eyed beauty had settled herself at Syaoran's table, where she herself used to sit.  
  
It hit her with a pang, but she stifled the sudden, sullen reaction.   
  
There was once an intelligent man who said that true love was unconditional.  
  
She'd like to kill that son of a bitch.  
  
----  
  
"Sakura, this is Nainiji Hanano," he said.  
  
Ah, so THIS is Hanano. She smiled. "Hello."  
  
Hanano smiled back, guileless, guiltless, unknowing.  
  
"You don't look Japanese," Sakura observed.  
  
Hanano laughed. "Oh, I was born and raised here all my life! But my mother is Irish."  
  
"I see," Sakura replied, as if that answered everything.  
  
Syaoran sighed under his breath. This was weird. It was beyond awkward, it was flat-out disconcerting. He was introducing his new girlfriend to his ex-girlfriend.  
  
The ex-girlfriend he still loved with all his being.  
  
Bullshit.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Next time: the final chapter. the final culmination, where all issues will be settled, and all questions will be answered. 


	4. what becomes of the broken-hearted

Beautiful Alone   
by Ekai Ungson  
  
notes: strange how this fic seems to be loved by all and not hated! anyway, thanks to everyone who took the time to read this fic which include Evil Emzo, meemee-chan, syao-chan, Sakura-san, Varon dahling, jade, China, and those other people I forgot to mention, thank you!   
  
in legality: CLAMP owns it. characters used without permission.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
iv: What Becomes of the Broken-Hearted  
  
The sound of thunder broke across the skies, and at the same time rain began pouring down in merciless amounts towards the humans below, firmly planted on earth.  
  
Sakura poured herself some hot tea and took her favorite seat by the window, taking with her a book and a blanket. She sat down and stared outside at the black, endless night, and at the raindrops that poured down in infinity.  
  
If only Tomoyo could see her now. Or even Touya. She had a feeling she looked a tad too melancholy.  
  
The week had been all right, so far, she mused. She'd made it through without wasting so far away. Seeing Syaoran with Hanano had at first developed in her some sort of defense mechanism, and then repellance, until later on, when she saw the smiles on their faces that the apprehension she felt deteriorated into a sort of blank numbness. She could watch them now without needing to wince or turn away.  
  
It would hurt her, always hurt her, but she could pretend, at the least, that it did not, couldn't she?  
  
The only strange part was whenever she, Syaoran, and Hanano were seen together, a lot of students' heads turned to her in expressions of either curiosity or pity.  
  
Well, that was the case of the ex.  
  
She was all right now.   
  
/Zutto, daijoubu da yo./  
  
/Whatever happens, everything will be alright./  
  
She put the cup of tea down and grabbed her coat and umbrella. Forget that the rain was at an all-time high. She needed a walk.  
  
----  
  
Only a coat and an umbrella to shield her from the water, and nothing else. If only it were this easy to shield oneself from other things. Things like pain.  
  
The rain had slowed down to a mere trickle, as are storms that pour their insides out in one awe-inspiring wave and then reduced themselves, having let loose everything within. If only it were this easy for oneself to unload.  
  
Somewhere in the distance, someone was playing the piano. A sad, heartbreaking tune, that made her think of a great loss.   
  
She began to ponder destiny, and why she and Syaoran were thrown together with such dizzying force only to be torn asunder from each other with about as much power. She began to question those forces, had they been trying to teach her something, just as they taught her to be brave, be strong with The Cards, just as they taught her how to value things, and love them?  
  
It wasn't as if she and Syaoran had been preordained for each other. But she had always believed they were.  
  
Oh well, she thought. At least now she knew better.  
  
She took a step and stopped dead in her tracks.  
  
Directly before her was Syaoran, sitting on a park bench and soaking wet.  
  
----  
  
It worked.  
  
He had summoned her to him and it worked, at least he'd like to believe it. He didn't use his magic but here she was, materializing from out of nowhere like a dream, from a dream, HIS dreams. It meant something. It was a sign that he still was connected to her in some way, even though the ties that bound them were all but intact.  
  
"Syaoran-kun?"  
  
He winced at the honorific. It's just Syaoran, Sakura, just Syaoran, remember? I'm just Syaoran. Syaoran. He stared at her.  
  
She held an umbrella above them both, and she was now close enough to touch, to crush her to him. Close enough. So close. "You're soaking. What on earth were you thinking, staying here in the middle of a godforsaken storm?"  
  
He didn't answer.  
  
"Syaoran-kun, let's take you home," she said, turning. When he didn't follow she asked again, "Syaoran-kun? Are you all right?"  
  
/Syaoran. Just Syaoran. Call me Syaoran and say... say that everything's all right between us./  
  
"Syaoran-kun?" she repeated.  
  
".... No," he croaked finally. "I'm not all right."  
  
Her eyes narrowed. "What?"  
  
"I'm not all right," he repeated, his voice rising. Call me Syaoran, just Syaoran. We're all right, aren't we? We're all right. Nothing happened. "Of course I'm not all right! How can you even think I am?"  
  
She stared at him. "I don't understand."  
  
He shook his head, furiously, madly, angry at her for not getting it, angry at himself for the damned mess he created. "It's killing me. YOU'RE killing me," he said, watching her gasp, stunned. "I miss you, Sakura," he whispered, pleadingly.  
  
For a few long moments, she stood, speechless.  
  
"Say something," he begged her.  
  
He heard her let out her breath. "... What do you want me to say?" she asked.  
  
He shook his head again, trying to clear it, selecting a few choice words that would best articulate how he felt, but not quite. No word could explain how he felt. "I don't know. That you miss me, too, somehow. That you still need me." He stood up. "That you forgive me."  
  
"I forgive you," she said quietly. "I just don't know if I'm anything else."  
  
"Sakura," he whispered, pained.  
  
She took a step back, as if repelled, as if disgusted. "Look, what do you want of me?" she asked angrily. "What do you want me to be? You've broken me beyond recognition, Syaoran. You've hurt me so much it's a wonder how I held up at all. And here you are, pleading to me, as if that would change anything you did? It's a miracle I'm still standing here, Syaoran! It's a frigging MIRACLE!"  
  
"I'm sorry," he said.  
  
"'I'm sorry'?!" Sakura yelled. "That's all you're going to say? One fucking 'I'm sorry'?! NOW?!" She turned enraged eyes on him. "Then I'd rather you didn't, Syaoran! Because it's useless! USELESS!"  
  
The umbrella lay forgotten; in her rage she'd thrown it onto the cold pavement. They were both standing in the rain now, and it had picked up again, showering them with droplets of water that weighed them down and pierced them, mixing with the tears on both their faces.  
  
"I looked on without a word about Hanano, Syaoran," she said slowly, deliberately, knowing that each word she spoke was going to his heart like darts, poison darts. "I didn't say a thing. I didn't beg you to come back to me. You," she said, "had wanted your freedom. And now, here it is," she waved a hand, as if freedom could be given physically, and it had manifested itself as the space around him, the black pavement, the gray puddles, the empty air. "Here. It is."  
  
"I wanted you, Sakura," he pleaded. "I love you." He reached for her.  
  
She stepped from his grasp. "No. I have had... enough."  
  
And she walked away, leaving him alone with the night, the rain, the pavement, and a forgotten umbrella.  
  
And a starless sky.  
  
The gods cried in her absence.  
  
~Owari~  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
In explanation for "Beautiful Alone":  
  
"Beautiful Alone" was conceptualized from the sheer sadness of the song of the same title from the Weiss Kreuz soundtrack. The song is a tad more-- there is no other word-- morbid-- as it speaks of the burial of a girl and a young man who watches her funeral in silence.   
  
The idea for "Beautiful Alone" was raised on me wanting to write my last SyaoranxSakura fic before I graduated from high school, After reading some one hundred fics on FF.net, I realized that there was not a plot that existed in my head that had not been written by others in the same respect. In order for me to create an original theme, I played around with the idea of reversing every canon concept known about the couple and tearing them apart with often staggering results that made even me cry as I wrote the paragraphs down. In sum, I had written NOT an SxS but an S-S.  
  
Influences for this fic are most often, and ironically, EriolxTomoyos by Chelle-sama, Ciircee, Sakura, Kit, Tin, Wen, B.Na, Silverlight, Varon, and others. I noticed that most SxS fics tend towards a more *shallow* voice than those in the narration of ExTs (this is mere personal opinion and cannot be traced as factual). So applying the same principle, I set about in trying to deepen the idea of the most-canon couple (sickening to a point, said Varon darling) because most fics usually played around with what was already THERE and not with WHY it was there in the first place.  
  
I noticed that there could be... ramifications done in the sense that time CAN pass in the CCS world and with time comes CHANGE. I toyed with the idea of Syaoran committing Very Bad Things and easily identified what could be most realistic in terms of identifying with the character and that was, yes, the s-3-x issue. (I know a lot of people who got very very MAD at Syaoran for this)  
  
In that, I went on to write what could possibly be my most challenging work to date.  
  
I did not write this fic because I needed an outlet to vent out on, although most of Sakura's reactions can be stemmed from mine as, yes, I have felt love lost and anger and hate, to a certain extent. I wrote this fic as it could be written. It was that simple. In any case, this fic is a tad biased in some parts, as I do not actually know how men react to such circumstances, hence an explanation for Syaoran's *minimal* reactions. I tried my very best, however, to make the pain appear very real while still maintaining what I knew about Syaoran, and give him proper heart where it was sorely needed. (I also know that by upright CCS standards, Syaoran will NEVER do anything like that, but that CAN change, can't it?) To Syaoran-lovers (*coughcoughSakura!coughSyao-chan!coughSasami!coughcoughcough*), my apologies.   
  
My sincere thanks go out to Sakura-san, who was first to learn about this idea, and was also first to beta-read, and for all the wonderful advice I got from her while writing this fic.  
  
Also to the aforementioned writers whose works inspired a lot of the narration in this piece, and for beta-reading also, in the CCSFWML.  
  
Acknowledgements also to dear Luna-chan, for providing me with a certain CD that contained select heartbreaking tracks to make me cry and write down how crying felt, including the song "Beautiful Alone".  
  
My apologies go to all those who read this fic expecting a happy ending. Somehow the concept just didn't fit with what I wanted to achieve, exactly. I did warn you.  
  
Thanks also to those who took the time out to read this thing. I sincerely thought I'd get flames. Really. I appreciate the compliments though, guys, thanks very much. I feel so loved! And cute! (Sorry, channeling Tin Mandigma there)  
  
Comments are always muchly appreciated. ^_^  
  
--Ekai Ungson  
hikari_yagami20@yahoo.com  
http://innocenceneon.blogspot.com 


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